Love is Patient, Love is Kind
by ObsidianWingsOfMidnight
Summary: Castiel is an angel and a slave. Dean is a human king, and one day he gets an unexpected gift as a peace offering. Eventual Destiel, some Sastiel, and possibly some Sabriel, plus other pairings.
1. Silent Angel, Go To Sleep

Chapter 1:Silent Angel, Go to Sleep

_Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak_  
_So sleep, silent angel, go to sleep_

_-"The Air That I Breathe" by The Hollies_

It was a beautiful day. The sky was a clear blue extending for miles around as the sun smiled warmly upon the earth. There was a gentle breeze whispering through the trees. The earth was full of abundant green life brought on by spring. A perfect day. At least. it should have been perfect.

Dean paced back and forth along the riverside. Today he would assure peace between his kingdom and its largest neighboring country, Tenebrae. He couldn't afford to screw up today. Not only would it be bad for his country, but it would also reflect poorly upon him as a king.

Things should go smoothly though, considering that King Gordon and he had already come to an informal agreement. All that was left was to officiate it. Dean couldn't help the anxious knot in his gut though. Gordon wasn't exactly the most trustworthy type. Perhaps he would change his mind about the whole business… No, Dean wouldn't let that happen. He just had to calm down. Everything was going to be fine.

"Dean?" he whipped his head around to find his brother Sam looking sheepishly at him. Sam may have been over six feet tall, but sometimes he looked about as harmless as a kitten.

"Yeah, Sammy?" he replied, forcing a smile.

"They just arrived. They're waiting for you in the pavilion."

"Thanks, Sammy." Deep breath. Showtime.

Luckily for Dean, negotiations went off without a hitch. There were not enough words to describe how relieved he felt. He began to excuse himself before the other kind interrupted him.

"Just a minute, Dean. I haven't fully expressed my gratitude yet," the other man smiled smugly.

"There's no need-"

"Nonsense, boy," Dean bit his tongue at the words as Gordon continued, " I have a gift for you." He snapped his fingers, and a couple of his guards went off to fetch what Dean could only assume was his gift. He waited uncomfortably for their return, but kept a perfect poker face to hide his discomfort from Gordon.

When the guards did return, his heart nearly stopped. The two men grasped a slave between them. And not just any kind of slave- an _angel_. He had messy black hair, milky white skin, and beautiful black wings sprouting from his back. He was breathtaking. But also broken. There were numerous bruises and scars- some new, some old- his wings hung limply, his tattered robes dangled loosely on him, and his head remained bowed.

Dean clenched his jaw and willed himself to stay civil. This was supposed to be a gift? The mistreatment of an innocent creature?

"Do you like it?" Gordon asked in false sweetness. "I know you have no wife as of yet, so I brought this for you. Obviously, it would be ridiculous for you to marry such an abomination, but I figured it would be good enough start for a harem. Keep it as a concubine or a simple slave if you wish," he finished, folding his dark hands in his lap.

It was no secret that the king of Tenebrae dislike any and all nonhumans. He despised them, and made his views plain for all to see. Nobody except humans dared to live in his kingdom.

Dean on the other hand, treated them with no prejudice at all, and allowed them all to live in his kingdom so long as they upheld his rules. Gordon was mocking him by doing this, but Dean didn't dare refuse. He knew Gordon would probably use refusal as an excuse to break off their agreement, and he couldn't risk that.

Then of course, there was the angel. He absolutely would not condemn him to live- or die- in the hands of Gordon.

"Thank you," he managed to grind out, "I accept your...generous gift." He returned the other king's frosty smile.

Inwardly he was seething. He gave a curt nod to his brother who quickly gathered the near unconscious angel in his arms and left the pavilion. He hoped the poor thing would be able to recover.

"Enjoy yourself, _your highness_," Gordon sneered, collecting his entourage and leaving the meeting in a flurry.

Dean may have allied himself with Gordon for now, but that didn't keep him from wanting to bash his face in.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Castiel sat dumbfounded in the king's chambers. In less than a week he'd been dragged away from slavery in the eastern kingdom Tenebrae, handed over to be somebody's consort, and whisked off to the capital of Fortuna. All this commotion combined with his poor health was making him very dizzy.

He did like it in Fortuna though. So far he had been treated with nothing but kindness and compassion since he'd been handed over. Well, that plus some wonder and awestruck faces, but mostly the other stuff. Castiel's wounds were treated daily and the Fortunans made sure he was well fed and rested. And rest he did. He barely did anything else on his journey to the capital. The people here were very kind.

He especially enjoyed listening to Prince Samuel talk. Or Sam, as the prince had insisted he be called. Sam told him lots about the king because the king wasn't there to do it himself. Apparently he was away taking care of other business, but he would return to the city a week or so after Sam and Castiel returned. Castiel didn't mind though. He wasn't exactly excited to be bedded by the man. He had…_experiences_ in Tenebrae that he wasn't willing to repeat.

He didn't have much choice in the matter though, did he? After all he was just a… what was he now? Was he still a slave, or was he the king's consort, or his bride? He had no idea. All he knew was that he belonged to the king.

"Don't worry," Sam's voice broke through his thoughts, "Dean really is a good guy. He'll treat you well. And if he doesn't, you just come tell me, and I'll knock some sense into him for you." he winked good naturedly, trying to diffuse some of the tension in the room. Castiel smiled weakly in return. Sam couldn't help but notice what a nice change it made to the angel's normally weary face.

"Would you like a bath? I bet you would. I'll go fetch a servant to help you," he said, walking off to do just that. Castiel was eternally grateful for Sam. Dear Sam who informed him of anything important, who told him stories about his brother, who talked and cared for Castiel even though he'd never spoken a word in return. He hadn't even told Sam his name, but the man never pressed him for it, or anything else for that matter. Sam took good care of him. He almost wished that Sam was his new master instead. He could only hope the king would be as kind.

When the prince came back he brought a young woman with him and beckoned Castiel through another doorway. In the adjoining room the woman drew a bath for him, smiling gently at him every now and then. While she did this, Castiel took the time to look her over. She was a petite blonde with dark brown eyes that held some unspoken sort of fire. She seemed friendly enough as she prepared his bath, pouring in scented oil and flower petals. The smell was divine, but Castiel couldn't help but feel as though the luxury of such a bath was being wasted on a lowlife like himself.

"Do you need help changing?" Sam asked, looking gently at him. Castiel looked down at himself in indecision. He was still very weak from his years of servitude. Truth be told, it took all his strength just to stand. On the other hand, he didn't like being touched. In his experience touching usually involved beatings or worse.

Sam had noticed his dislike when the first had offered to help Castiel change the first time. The prince had reached out to help remove the tattered robes the angel was wearing, but Castiel had flinched so hard he withdrew his hand immediately. The poor angel wouldn't even take off his clothes himself, so instead Sam opted for simply draping his cloak over his shoulders.

Now he had no choice. It would be ridiculous to bathe in the rags he was wearing. In the end Castiel gave in and allowed Sam to help him, trembling all the while. He was completely exposed to Sam, as well as the serving woman who he glanced at warily.

Sam must have noticed because he said, "Maybe I should help him wash, Jo. You go ahead and see if your mother needs any help." She nodded and swished gracefully away. Castiel peeked up at Sam before hesitantly sinking into the bathtub.

He was instantly gratified by the hot, steamy water, letting out a satisfied sigh. It had been years since he'd had a proper bath. The most he got as a slave was a dunk in the river or a bucket of water over his head. To be soaking in heated water, flower petals, and to have real soap was heavenly.

Before he realized it he was asleep again. It took maybe ten seconds in the water for it to happen. Sam was really starting to worry about the angel falling asleep all the time. He was obviously in poor health, both mentally and physically, so he had a right to worry if the angel was going to last long. He hardly did anything except sleep, he barely ate, and he never made a sound. Well, except for some whimpering in his sleep or when someone touched him unexpectedly, but those were involuntary. He'd have to talk about it with Dean when he returned.

On the other hand, it would probably make washing the angel a lot easier if he were asleep. He wouldn't have to worry about scaring him or making him uncomfortable. Sam always felt like he was drowning in guilt when the angel pulled a face that would put a kicked puppy to shame. He imagined that face popping up if the angel were awake for the process. It did seem a little wrong to be touching the angel when he was unconscious...but he really didn't want to see that face. Hopefully the angel would forgive him. After all, it wasn't as if he was going to do anything bad. He was helping him out. And he really, _really_ didn't want to see that face. Especially with those eyes...those insanely blue eyes. They were mesmerizing.

With that thought in mind he bent down beside the heavenly host to look more closely at his face. Even after his efforts the past few days to help the angel recover, he still looked malnourished. His skin was too pale- in fact it was borderline gray. And it hung off his bones like oversized clothes. Of course, that was only from what he could see underneath all the dirt. The poor creature was a mess. Dirt was so deeply engraved into his skin that Sam wasn't sure he could wash it out without waking him up. There were also spots that looked suspiciously like dried blood, which wouldn't really surprise him. When he'd helped the angel undress he'd been appalled at the abundant discoloring of his skin. There were bruises of every shape, size, and hue marking his body. It was no wonder why he preferred not to be touched.

Looking at him as he slept now though, he seemed much more at peace. At least more so than the first couple days. It was like every second the angel was afraid he'd been beaten. Not now though, amid scented oil and rose petals with the sun setting in an explosion of color to the west.

Sam washed the angel as carefully and gently as he could to keep that peaceful expression on his face for at least a while longer. Once he finished he carried the angel back to Dean's bed and tucked him beneath the covers, all done as carefully as possible. It turned out to be a little more challenging than he had anticipated, but despite the other's near weightlessness, his wings were a feature Sam had never had to deal with before. Fortunately the angel remained asleep throughout the whole ordeal, something for which Sam was eternally grateful, He didn't attempt to try and dress the angel, but he figured it would be okay for one night. He honestly wasn't up to figuring out how to maneuver clothes around those wings tonight.

Not that Sam didn't like his wings. He could barely take his eyes off of them. The feathers were mainly black, but at the bottom faded out to an almost transparent gray. Multiple feathers had been ripped out though, giving his wings the appearance of a half finished painting. Nonetheless, they were breathtaking.

The angels had been nearly wiped out about 20 years ago, so they'd become quite a rarity. Sam himself had never seen one before, but if all angels' wings were as beautiful as this one's then part of him could understand why they were so desired.

Absentmindedly, he reached out to stroke the black appendages. He froze when the angel let out a rather breathy- and dare he say sexy- moan. After a brief moment of indecision Sam repeated the motion to see if it would have the same effect. It did, and not only that, the other even leaned in to the touch. The prince reluctantly withdrew his hand at this newfound knowledge. Apparently angels were aroused by having their wings touched. Or at least this one was. He filed the information away for later. After all, if Dean didn't want the angel, Sam would be more than willing to take him off his hands. Needless to say, he was falling pretty hard for his brother's new gift. This could probably cause a lot of trouble in the future, but at the moment Sam couldn't bring himself to give a damn.

Instead he settled for placing a chaste kiss on the angel's forehead before taking his leave. As he walked out the door he glanced back one last time as the pale figure in the moonlight, smiling softly at the thought of seeing him tomorrow.

**A/N: The title comes from 1st Corinthians 13:4-8. 4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.**

**8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away.**


	2. Blue Eyes

Chapter 2: Blue Eyes

_I'll be Your hands, take me as I am,  
I just wanna be with You_

_-Take Me As I Am by FM Static_

Dean ran eagerly to the gardens. According to the servants, that was where Sam would be. He couldn't wait to ask him about the angel. He was all the king had thought about since meeting with Gordon.

There were so many questions he was dying to ask his brother. Was the angel okay? Was he broken beyond repair? What was he like? Could he fly? Did he have a family? What was his name?

He was so caught up in his thoughts he nearly barreled into Sam.

"Whoa! Watch it there, Dean!"

"Sorry, Sammy, but I have to talk to you!" he explained as his brother threw him one of his trademark bitchfaces at the name.

"Don't call me that, and what did you want to talk about?"

"The angel, Sammy!" he exclaimed, ignoring his brother's second bitchface.

"What about him?" Sam asked, not expecting the tidal wave of questions that followed. Dean didn't mean to overwhelm him, but he couldn't help it. They all just poured out of their own accord.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down! First of all, I can't really answer most of those questions because he doesn't speak," Sam paused to let that sink in before continuing. "I'm pretty sure it's a psychological things though, so maybe we can ask him that stuff later. "

Well, Dean was completely floored by this news. It shouldn't really have surprised him, given the state of the angel when he last saw him, but still...he couldn't talk?

"Okay, so he can't talk...can he, I dunno, write or something?" he asked.

Sam sighed, "I don't really know, Dean. He doesn't do much besides sleep. He's still pretty weak. He can barely walk on his own for more than a minute. Today's the first day I've taken him outside. He seems to like it though."

"He's out here? Where is he?" he asked giddily. He was practically bursting to see the angel again.

"I left him by the pond. Come on," his brother replied, leading the way.

Dean continued to pepper him with questions along the way about the angel's personality. According to Sam, the angel was very timid and shy-which was fine- but he was also very afraid of people in general. He'd warmed up a bit to Sam due to his constant presence, but other than that he preferred to be left alone. Even now, Sam was still tiptoeing around him.

His brother assumed this came from being treated so harshly in Tenebrae. He doubted the angel was used to a friendly tough after his time served as a slave.

The more Sam told Dean, the less happy he became. His face twisted into a scowl as he listened about the bruises and scars that littered the angel's body. And of course, there was the mark. Sam had missed it at first, lost among the countless scars that marred the angel's skin. Then he noticed how unusually clean it looked. Most of the angel's scars were ragged and chaotic in nature, but this one on his back was too precise and orderly to have come from a random beating.

It was old, that much was clear. It was pale in contrast to some of the newer ones, which shone in an angry red against the angel's fair skin. It was outlined by a ring of raised skin that encircled what appeared to be a pair of hands with the fingers splayed outward and away from each other. This gave it the crude effect of wings, which seemed to be mocking the race of angels, especially seeing as it was placed between the angel's shoulder blades. It was like a smaller set of wings had been wedged between his real ones.

When Sam had asked Bobby- one of their oldest and most trusted advisers- he'd been told it was the brand of an enslaved angel. Once an angel was sold into slavery they had the mark burned into their skin. Just thinking about doing that to anyone sickened Dean. He told Sam just as much too, and Sam agreed with his sentiments, but he had worse news to share.

"Bobby also warned me about another brand I might find It's one specifically used to mark slaves used for...well, you know."

"You mean he's a sex slave?!" Dean whispered loudly.

"Gee, thanks for using the exact words I was trying to avoid, Dean."

"Sammy, quit joking around and tell me if the angel I got has one of those marks.!"

"I was getting to it, Dean. According to Bobby the brand is put somewhere people are more likely to see if they're trying to abuse the angel that way."

"Dude, you're a grown ass man, it's okay to say the word sex. Seriously, you're not ten anymore."

"Shut up will you? I'm just trying to explain the situation delicately. Some of us actually try to do that.

"Anyway, I've been helping the angel take baths- don't give me that look Dean-and I found the mark." Dean sobered up immediately at hearing this.

"It's similar to the other mark, but it's only got one hand, and there's a teardrop shape above it. And because I know you're gonna ask where it is I'll just tell you now-it's midway up his left thigh."

Dean struggled to come to grips with what he just learned. It was like there was an internal battle within himself between feeling angry or sad for the angel. Honestly, it was pretty confusing for him. He'd never felt so strongly about a non-human being before.

Sure, he let them live in his kingdom peacefully, but he always felt rather detached from them. He didn't really take notice of them unless they provoked him.

This angel though...he was different. In his mind angels had always been the purest beings in the world. To taint them in any way was a horrible crime. If he could, he would set all of them free to live as they once had.

Unfortunately, he couldn't do that without declaring war on his neighboring kingdoms. They had all legalized slavery, and since angels were so alluring, it was unlikely for that to change. He'd be a fool to try it, especially after he just made a peace treaty with one of them. For now he'd have to settle with just one angel.

He came to a halt behind Sam who had stopped momentarily to alert the angel of their presence.

The angel was sitting at the edge of the water, seemingly entranced by the scenery. When he heard Sam clear his throat however, he turned his head and fixed his astonishingly blue eyes on them. Dean swore his heart skipped a beat when they made eye contact.

Castiel, for his part, was equally surprised, though not quite in the same way. He had completely forgotten about the king whose bed he had been sleeping in. To say he was surprised would be an understatement. Castiel was paralyzed in shock. His peaceful days were suddenly shattered by the appearance of the king and replaced with all the unanswered questions he'd somehow managed to forget about. The most prominent being about what was going to happen to him.

He tried to stand up on his own, but he moved too fast and nearly fell into the pond. Sam was fortunately fast enough to grab him and prevent that from happening. As soon as he was steady on his feet- steady for him anyway- he was quick to hide behind the prince's large bulk, shielding himself from the king.

Dean was rather disappointed by this, but couldn't really blame the guy. So instead of acting butt hurt about the situation he gave the angel his friendliest and most dazzling smile.

Castiel, who was peeking from his spot behind Sam, was taken aback. The king was alarmingly handsome for one thing. He had sandy blond hair, slightly tanned skin, green eyes, and an easygoing air about him. Castiel thought his eyes looked kind of nice. And, well, the rest of him too. Especially when he smiled like that. Castiel found himself blushing, embarrassingly pleased to be at the receiving end of it. Perhaps he had been worrying needlessly about this man.

"So…" Dean began, " My name is Dean. Nice to meet you," He held out his hand as he peered around his younger brother.

Sam shifted a bit so that the angel would be a little more out in the open. After a brief moment of hesitation Castiel reached out an arm. He'd never seen a handshake before though, so instead of shaking Dean's hand with one of his own, he held out his left hand timidly in the air. He was rather confused about the king's gesture, and was looking at it like he expected it to bite him.

Dean grinned, amused, before he took the angel's proffered hand in his and laid a light kiss on his knuckles. His grin grew wider as he watched the angel blush.

Sam was equally amused at the angel's antics and had to stifle a chuckle when the creature snatched his hand back and buried his burning face into Sam's side.

"Any chance you could give us a name to call you?" Dean asked kindly. Castiel shook his head, clutching on to Sam's shirt like his life depended on it.

"Okay then, that's fine," Dean continued, "How about we just call you...Blue Eyes!"

Cue Sam's bitchface again.

"Blue Eyes? Seriously, Dean?"

"Shut up, bitch! I've only known him for like two seconds!"

"Jerk. Whatever. It works," Sam said patting the angel softly on the head.

Castiel was confused by their banter. They seemed to be insulting each other, but the tone of their voices was cheerful. Humans were such odd creatures. His wings gave a nervous flutter.

Almost immediately, both brothers focused in on the dark appendages sprouting from his back. Even someone as oblivious as himself could see the questions racing through their minds. There was also a childlike sense of wonder on their faces, which Castiel appreciated more than the other look. it was certainly a step up from the loathing , yet lustful looks he got as a slave.

"Well, I uh, I think _Blue Eyes_ here get some rest," Sam said, breaking out of his trance.

Now that Sam mentioned it, Castiel did feel rather tired. He had failed to notice during their odd little break from reality that his legs were starting to feel like jelly. Sam must have realize it from how much the angel was sagging against him.

Before he could protest- silently of course- the unusually tall human had picked him up bridal style. Castiel felt his face heat up once more and inwardly curse. He shouldn't have been embarrassed about it anymore since Sam did it all the time. It was his main form of transportation because he was often too weak to walk on his own for more than a minute or two.

He hadn't been nearly this weak in Tenebrae. Then again, slaves were always fed some strange disgusting substance that gave them just enough strength to more or less get their work done. It was a gross gray paste that tasted like dirt and left a person feeling emptier inside than ever. Castiel had no lost love for the stuff. He got to discover all kinds of good tasting foods in Fortuna. Still, he missed being able to walk on his own. He felt like such a burden to Sam.

The king- Dean, he reminded himself- appeared disappointed to hear they would be leaving, but he smiled anyway and told him to "rest up" before setting off himself.

Castiel found himself nodding off to the rhythmic thumps of Sam's footsteps soon after. He'd never felt so secure in someone's arms before, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for the this new friend of his. He hoped he'd never have to let go of this life.

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update :/**

**I felt bad I didn't do it sooner because people are actually reading it. Weird haha. I'm thankful to you guys for reading it though! I'll try to update sooner, but classes are starting in a few days so we'll just have to wait and see. :)**


	3. Burning Dreams

Chapter 3: Burning Dreams

_I see fire, hollowing souls  
I see fire, blood in the breeze_

I see fire, oh you know I saw a city burning  
I see fire, feel the heat upon my skin

I See Fire by Ed Sheeran

ooooooooooooooooo

Dean used to have little fantasies about a hot angel waiting for him in bed when he was younger. In his mind they'd always been girls though. So when he arrived at his room to find a very attractive- yet obviously _male_ angel in his bed...well, he was at a complete loss. He had just kind of thought Sam had put him in a guest room or something. Apparently not.

_Okay_, Dean thought, _there's an angel in my bed. A really, _really_ cute angel. I mean, he's a man, but he's freaking gorgeous. Okay, don't panic, Dean. Just go talk to Sam and figure out some new sleeping arrangements. Yeah… That's a good plan_.

With that final thought he set off to have a little chat with his brother.

ooooooooooooooooooo

The sun was scorching, and Castiel reveled in the sensation combined with the cool water that lapped at his feet. He was standing on the beach, marveling at everything around him. He had never been to the beach before, and he could barely contain his wonder. He marveled at the sand squishing between his toes, the waves turning in the sea, the empty, pure beauty of the nature surrounding him. He was four years old, and it felt as if the whole world lay before him.

The next several hours were spent running around in the sand, building sandcastles, and then rebuilding them after the tide swept them away. The first time it happened it took Castiel by surprise. One moment the crude piles of sand he and his siblings had made stood proudly, the next they had disappeared. He stood in shock until his brother Michael explained what had happened.

His explanation was brief because the next moment he and Raphael were trying to console Anael and Uriel, who were both in tears at seeing their hard work washed away.

Castiel walked into the receding waters until he was waist deep. He stared intently at the liquid, still not quite comprehending what Michael had told him. If he had understood what his brother had said, he would not have ventured out into the water.

The waves crashed into him and pulled his tiny body away from the shore. There was a moment of shock before panic took over instead. he flailed his limbs in the water but continued to be dragged under by the waves. He opened his mouth to scream but ended up choking instead.

His vision began to darken, his thoughts hazier, and he wondered for a second why he suddenly felt so tired.

Then warm hands pulled him out of the water, smacking his back as he emptied the contents of his lungs onto his brother's shoulder.

He cried and cried as Michael held him, who assured Castiel that everything would be alright. His brother apologized profusely for not noticing sooner- he'd been preoccupied trying to calm his other brother and sister down.

Castiel didn't really mind that part. Michael was always busy taking care of everyone. It may have taken a little time, but Michael had saved him in the end. That's what he loved most about Michael. He was dependable.

He had admittedly been a bit out of it lately. For the past year angels had been found slaughtered at the edges of their territory. It was rare for angels to die of...well, anything, actually. They were eternally youthful, so dying of old age was out of the question. They were a mostly peaceful race as well, so dying in battle was also unlikely. Plus, angels were incredibly hard to injure permanently, much less kill. This was due to their quick regenerative abilities.

The deaths were most unusual. It looked as though they had been killed on purpose, but only angels were powerful enough to kill other angels. The work looked disturbingly more...human. it baffled everyone, including Michael.

Castiel, being so young, was less affected than his older siblings. Michael, being the oldest of all the angels, was hit rather hard.

Oddly enough, the second oldest, Lucifel, was was not very upset. he acted upset when other angels were around, but if he was alone he seemed just fine. Still, everyone loved Lucifel, so nobody suspected what terrors he would wreak.

That day at the beach had been beautiful, even if Castiel had almost drowned.

And just like that, it was gone.

The sunny beach replaced with a city on fire, the sky filled with smoke that made the sun look distant and hazy. it stared impassively down on his burning home, a red eye that saw all the horrors of the world yet remained unaffected.

He cried out as loud as he could, but his lone voice was no match against the countless cries of his people or the roar of the flames that engulfed them.

Yet to Castiel, the loudest sound was the silence of his brother Lucifel. His brother was powerful and beautiful and loved. He was the ideal which all angels strived for. So when Castiel saw him emerge from the flaming wreckage, he thought they were saved. No longer would the world burn. No longer would he hear the echoing screams of his dying brothers and sisters.

One of his sisters stumbled up to Lucifel. She sobbed, begging him to save them. Tears gleamed in the light of the fire, streaks of silver running down her face.

He looked down at her and smiled serenely, lifting a hand up to cup her face gently. He looked so kind and loving that Castiel almost didn't comprehend what happened next.

He saw Lucifel unsheathe his blade and watched in wordless horror as the metal swung gracefully through the air like an eagle swooping in on its prey. It met little resistance from her neck. There was a blue flash of light as her wings disintegrated into shadows on the ground.

The resulting spray of blood splattered across Lucifel's face, but he was not perturbed. If anything, he looked downright euphoric. His gentle smile grew wider.

Castiel stared dumbfounded until the severed head of his sister rolled to his feet.

His brother's eyes turned upon him, and he saw something flash through their cold amber depths. The older angel started to walk towards him. One step. Two. Three.

On the fourth step Castiel bolted. he ran as far and as fast as his little legs could carry him. Sadly, he didn't get very far.

He was soon grabbed by a pair of demons- some new sort of creature that was evil to the core. Nobody knew where they came from- all they knew was that these demons had the power to kill an angel. They were the cause of the mysterious murders before. They had been practicing.

A little fledgeling such as himself was no match for full grown demons. He struggled helplessly as the laughed mockingly at his distress. They sliced his skin open with their knives and broke his fingers one by one. When they got bored of that they held him down in the flames, enraptured at the sight of watching him writhe and scream as he burned.

Castiel was healthy at the time, so he healed almost immediately, but the pain was so terrible, he wished he would die instead. His tears evaporated before they could even leave his eyes. He couldn't understand how these monsters could find such joy in torturing him.

Ironically, it was his brother Lucifel who saved him from their antics. he plucked the angel out of their reach and cradled him against his chest.

"Castiel," he cooed softly, "Why did you run from me, little one? i would never hurt you." He whimpered, trying to curl in further on himself, but to no avail. His brother smirked down at him. he trembled as the other stroked his fingers slowly through his hair.

"No, no, dear Castiel. Your generation will live, so that you all remember your place in the new world. Our other brothers and sisters- well, they're just a little too set in their ways to accept it. but _you_- you young ones are perfect for conditioning. You'll do wonderfully."

He stared bewildered up at his brother. None of his words made any sense to the fledgeling.

Lucifel just smiled sweetly at him before passing a hand over his eyes and leaving him in a suffocating darkness he couldn't escape.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

Dean had taken no more than five steps before he heard a small cry come from his bedroom.

Swiftly, he turned around and ran to the angel's side. It was dark, but he could still make out the pale sheen of sweat on his brow, as well as his tortured expression by the moonlight. It was obvious that the poor being was having a nightmare.

Even as he came to this conclusion, the angel unconsciously drew his wings closer around himself as if to make a protective cocoon. This was entirely unhelpful to Dean, who had to force them open in order to wake the angel.

"Blue Eyes, hey," he struggled against the feathery appendages, "Hey- wake up!"

The next few minutes passed in a similar fashion until eventually, the angel woke with a gasp and a look of wide-eyed panic.

"It's okay, it's alright. You're safe now. It was just a nightmare," he tried to assure him. Unfortunately for Castiel, it was more than that. The worst nightmares are the real ones because it's impossible to hide from the truth.

For Castiel, this truth was that thousands upon thousands of his brothers and sisters had died from that day onwards. And the ones that had survived were forced into slavery, which was worse than dying in some ways. And the worst truth of all was that it was all caused by the brother they had loved so much.

he sobbed uncontrollably, unable to hold back his tears. he vaguely realized that the king was holding him, but was too tired to resist. Frankly, he didn't want to. It felt nice to have someone's arms wrapped around him again without malevolence or ulterior motives.

So he stayed like that, not rejecting the man's gentle touches as he brushed away his tears and whispered comforting words into his hair.

He didn't know what it was about the king or his brother, but Castiel felt he could trust them, despite the short amount of time he had known them.

he supposed, in a way, they reminded him a little bit of his brother Michael. All three of them were strong and sturdy, but most of all they all shared a willingness to take care of others, regardless of their own needs.

Being with Sam and his brother reminded him of his life before slavery. The biggest difference being the severe lack of other angels around him, but when he was with them...he didn't mind so much.

So for the night he pretended like he was a fledgeling again, wrapped protectively in Michael's arms, instead of the strange but kind man he barely knew. He imagined he was at the beach again, the sun smiling warmly on his skin, being lulled to sleep by the sound of waves churning gently in the sea.

And ever so slowly he began to fall asleep. And with every breath evening out, the barriers he had built around his heart began to drift away in the imaginary waves that sounded in tandem with the king's heartbeat. And then there was peace.

**A/N: For the love of all good things guys, if you notice a spelling or grammar error please tell me TT_TT I recently went through the other chapters and my eyes were just...bleeding. I try to catch them before I post them, but sometimes I'm just really blind. So please, if you notice anything like that , feel free to tell me. Also, I didn't realize before that I couldn't separate time or point of view with dashes...apparently they don't show up here...so I fixed that too. Dear Lord, I'm so tired. And I'm sick of making cardboard chairs (don't ask). **

**But anyways...thanks for reading, guys! And you know...continuing to read despite my rather slow updates (Sorry) :)**


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